


Take A Cold Shower

by THA_THUMPP



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Implied Relationships, Late Night Conversations, M/M, One Shot, POV First Person, Rick POV, Rickyl, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 22:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1528235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/THA_THUMPP/pseuds/THA_THUMPP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shower. It's been a while since Rick’s had one, especially with hot water, and he can't help but mull over how this community in Alexandria, Virginia is too good to be true. So just to be on the safe side, Rick decides it'd be best if everyone stayed together under the same roof for the first few nights. But there's only one bathroom, and Daryl Dixon doesn't know how to knock...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take A Cold Shower

**Author's Note:**

> (Based on the Alexandria Safe-Zone in The Walking Dead comic books, but with the characters from the TV series.)
> 
> This idea started with a "Could you imagine if Daryl was with the group..." and "No, Rick! Don't let that woman cut your hair!" while we were catching up on The Walking Dead comics. Haha. This might turn into a series of one shots based on the "Safe-Zone" arc or future settings, we don't know yet... Cheers!
> 
> ***THIS ONE SHOT IS TOLD FROM RICK'S POV***

There were reasons I was skeptical about this place. This _Safe-Zone_ , as people were calling it, which I thought was a pretty sizeable title for only a few blocks of cleared streets at best and it was misleading. More so, it was _uplifting_ , the best news we'd heard since the fall of the prison and that's what had me most nervous. So I had to be sure – had to _know_ we were making the right choice in staying here.

After all, when out on the road for so long, we never thought of ourselves as truly _safe_ , not really. Not when knowing other people were out there wanting what we'd been given – wanting what we _now_ had. So that's why I spread the word that everyone'd be staying in the same house tonight. For the first few nights, at least. Until thangs settled down, 'til we knew what we'd gotten ourselves into.

And so far it wasn't that bad.

We had hot water for one, I reminded, when stepping out from the shower in a daze. And Jesus, it felt weird. _So_ weird. Almost like a dream – this being the closest thang we had to civilization after the past few weeks, and hell, I wasn't surprised at myself when thinking we _could_ make this work. We _could_ be safe here.

Though the thought of growing soft didn't sit right with me. Not to mention our weapons being stored in a space other than beside our beds. In spite of everythang, our guns'd become a part of who we _were_ , somethang we could rely on when trapped in a situation or confronted, and I'm sure the others would've agreed with me if I said it made us feel naked when we didn't have them with us.

About as naked as I was now. Towel hanging loosely around my hips, wearing it as freely as the worn belt from my uniform, chest bare and streaked with water. I was vulnerable at the moment, but that didn't mean I would be for long. 'Cause I knew we could get them back – our guns, our _protection_ , maybe more. I'd been devising a plan with Glenn about it earlier in the day and would probably put it into action once my shift – this new role I'd been thrown into when first entering the community – started. And I sighed, gazing into the mirror.

This'd be hard getting used to.

A lot harder than finding my reflection, I compared. The haze from the shower rippling and blurring my image across the glass, drops dotting the pane like freshly dewed grass, but I could fix that, and I wiped at it tentatively. Hand smearing and soon fully clearing the surface after a couple tries, but not clearing my head.

I was still in thought, still _shocked_ , I guess, since being welcomed into this neighborhood – a neighborhood that still seemed too good to be true – and my eyes never broke the stare I'd established. Drained cerulean blue contrasting the pale walls behind and I looked intensely, baiting myself with a slow turn of my head; to the left, then right.

I looked better than I did in a long time, but this was still me – someone who'd done all sorts of horrible thangs to get here, for the sake of surviving, because I _had_ to. Although this was a one-sided story and it was no use justifying my actions now. Walkers or the living alike, I'd shoot them all without batting an eye just to keep my family alive. So maybe this change didn't really matter, 'cause deep down I was _still_ that person, just in a different place, is all, and I settled for a rub at my beard.

I'd trimmed it a little, but that was pretty much it. Not my hair though, I'd left that untouched. I'd gotten used to the style it was now. Naturally wavy, and long enough to brush back and tuck just behind my ears. The length had grown on me – like some of the new and old scars etched into my upper body and arms – and it wasn't a hindrance. It suited me better, I thought, seemed like the only thang I could control. After all, being sharp and shaven just wasn't me anymore.

I couldn't go back to how it was before Atlanta City, which's why I refused Olivia's offer to cut my curls earlier. Not because I was trying to be unsociable, but because I wanted to keep the look I'd developed – _remind_ myself with the look I'd developed, no matter how small each detail was. It reminded me of what I'd been through – what my _team_ and I'd been through, which almost seemed unreal when knowing we'd only been at this lifestyle for a little over a year. Though it almost felt longer – also felt like hell.

But we'd survived. And that's who we were now, _survivors_. Endure and carry on. That's what we'd been doing all these months and I knew we could go further. Hell, as a group we were capable of doing _anythang_ ; hunting, farming, killing – but knocking? That was somethang we'd have to work on, as I noticed, when the bathroom door casually swung wide. Funny to think how we weren't concerned about privacy before, not since sharing stalls in the prison n' all, but just from habit I double-checked the knot of my towel.

“ _Sorry. Didn't think nobody was in 'ere...”_

Daryl? _Of course_ , it was Daryl. And I tucked my thumb into the fabric around my waist as I shifted my weight from foot to foot before feeling the muted crow's feet around my eyes pinch as I smiled. Seeing him look to the floor in embarrassment was somethang else, 'specially when I caught him stealing peeks anywhere but my face, like he was trying to find a reason to stay, and my lips soon pursed in amusement. Honestly, he didn't _need_ a reason.

“Don't be,” I motioned to the shower, “Come on in. Was just finishin' up.” and pressed against the counter to let him by.

Daryl could've said no, that he'd wait – wait until I was dressed and out. But I figured he wouldn't mind, and I was right. He _stayed_ , and gave a shy nod prior to pushing past. It was a tight squeeze, his front brushing my back as he did, and I caught wind of his natural scent; the scent of dirt and sweat, which mixed among that of stale shampoo. It was potent, but I _preferred_ it. Reminded me of the after rain, the syrupy smell of the earth as it tried to settle, tried to accommodate the access liquid, tried to keep its roots alive and strong.

Kinda like Daryl, I hummed.

After all, he was the supplier of our camp – the prison – when we had it. Catching us a buck, a couple squirrels, or rabbits, just enough game to keep us satisfied and our bellies full, enough to keep us _alive_. And like the rain, I saw the effort he put into keeping our people nourished. Took its toll on him too, but he didn't complain about it. It's what made Daryl, Daryl, I figured, and admired his hands as he tossed one of the spare towels onto the floor before making work of his vest and shirt.

The first layer was discarded effortlessly, the second lifted up and over, and I soon found myself stealing a couple peeks like he'd done me before. His top now stripped past his fingers and with his arms fully bare, I could see all the curves. Even the worn ones, tattered like the stock of his crossbow, though that didn't mean they'd lost their spunk. I'd seen him during those play fights with Carl, arm-wrestles with Michonne. He was still quick to snap back if need be, similar to his tongue – always supple and full of energy.

Hell, he was even a lot quicker now than when I'd first met him and I puffed lightheartedly at the memories of our first fallout. He was a wild one, _still_ was, and I ran a hand through my damp tresses, brushing them outta my eyes in a leisure slick, which didn't go unnoticed.

_“You cleaned up?”_

I saw Daryl motion to my beard through the mirror's reflection and it was good to know I wasn't the only one doing some admiring. Made me feel less like a voyeur and I rinsed my hands in the sink for no reason but to stall, before wiping at my scruff.

“Just a trim.” though I didn't think it was that noticeable, “Why?”

“Looked shorter s'all.” He shrugged, bunching his shirt in a ball until that too fell to the floor with the extra towel and his vest. “You goin' out?”

“Have to.”

“Why?”

Our eyes locked for a minute and if I didn't know any better, I'd say somethang had him spooked. Aside from the hangdog stare, Daryl seemed to be asking a lot of questions today – kinda like Carl with his _when are we leaving_ , and _I don't like it here_ mumbo jumbo, which I chose to overlook. The way I figured, this'd come to pass. The anxiety of being in a new setting, meeting new faces, the pressure of fitting in, everythang…

But Daryl? Man was untamed before and turned ten times feral after we got together, so no wonder he was feeling antsy – about as antsy as a startled hawk if I had to compare. Always looking over his shoulder, eyes narrow and scanning for danger. Except he had to understand, this move was a big deal for all of us, we just had to make the best of it – _blend in_ , see how thangs worked. Which's what I intended to do… for the time being, at least.

“Been given the role of constable.” I explained, and watched as Daryl squinted from behind his bangs, chin tucked to his chest as he worked at his belt.

“Fuck's that?”

He said it more as a snub than actual interest, but I played along.

“Fancy term for cop, I guess.”

After all, Douglas Monroe must've had his reasons for giving me the position he did, vowing it fit me fine. And sure, I got why he'd think that. Hell, I was a small town cop before the dead started walking the streets, so no doubt that put me as the top candidate on the man's short list of personnel. But after what we'd been though – what we'd _gone_ through – I wasn't certain if I could abide by government rules anymore. Yet I still figured, for what it's worth, I'd give it a go.

“Back to savin' people again, huh, officer friendly?”

I could tell Daryl was teasing and I let a small laugh. That was a nickname I'd never get used to, 'specially since it was Merle Dixon who gave it. But with Daryl, I'd let it slide. Merle was family after all, his brother, and who could stay stern when it was said with such good humor. Though he had to understand…

“No, not savin'.” I started. We'd lost people before, good people, people that I thought I _could_ save. And thinking back on it made me realize how pompous it all sounded – how pompous _I_ sounded – and I didn't really wanna think of myself that way or be seen in that light, not anymore. Best to keep it more real, down to earth, within _achievement_ , and I shortly cleared my throat with a dull nod, “But protectin'? Yeah, yeah you could say that.”

Daryl was silent for a minute, the headway on his pants now reduced to a minimal before he began a nod of his own. It was a slow nod too, almost like he had to force himself to agree – which I hoped he wasn't doing just for my sake – and was almost surprised when he settled for a soft, “S'what we do, right?”

And I couldn't disagree there. My group – _our_ group – we could show these people how it's done. 'Cause from what I'd seen on our way in here, not a single person was conscious about the real dangers and terror outside the fences. Nonetheless, as much as I hated to admit it, this community needed us – the _people_ here needed us – and we were their best bet, so I wasn't ready to disappoint. Besides, if need be, I figured we could overrun this place in a jiffy – and I would too, in a heartbeat. Just thought a reason'd be best if we did though…

“ _We doin' this?”_

Daryl was looking at me, not in a challenging way, more like waiting for a signal – a signal that I knew what I was doing. But who's to say I recognized what was good or bad for this team anymore? I was just as new to this whole society effort, same as he was, and right now I was just going off what felt right, what I thought we needed now – _here and now_ – not in the future. And although this _Safe-Zone_ required some work…

“The way I see it, we've got a home here,” I shrugged, “or at least a place to get ourselves situated, think of our next move, get ourselves sorted.” And I leaned forward to catch Daryl's eyes as they tried to downcast. “That's gotta count for somethang, right?”

He shrugged back, “S'uppose.”

And that's when I noticed the stream from my shower had all but cleared – though the heat was still here – the only thang moderately wet my hair, which'd soaked the rim of my towel and puddled on the floor where I stood, frankly showing I'd overstayed my welcome, and I inadequately wiped at my forehead.

“We'll make this work.” And it may've been a little bold of me to reach out, but I did all the same, taking one of Daryl's shoulders in a gentle squeeze, “There's hot water.” I motioned to the nozzle behind, “Somethang we haven't had for a while.”

I'd meant it as a dismissal, but Daryl didn't follow my gaze. Instead, moved my attention to the entrance of the bathroom with his own point, “Got doors with locks too.”

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, one that I'd come to recognize through long glances and friendly pats. It was one that I'd also taken a liking to after a couple nights of giving into temptation and letting loose with passion. It was the end of the world and we were exploring our options. Didn't go out looking for it either – it just _happened_. We got close, closer than brothers and more like lovers.

But no one knew this.

Hell, we didn't until last month, until after that run-in with the walker herd. The undead stretching as far as the eye could see. I remember clear as day, it was then we couldn't keep our hands off each other, thinking every day was our last – and for some it was – but we're just trying to make the best of it. So right now, Daryl's suggestion didn't seem half unexpected or like bad idea. And honestly, we could do with a distraction…

“Yeah,” I smiled, “That we do.” and fastened the knob with a tight _click_.

Besides, we'd make it quick, I figured. Still had my duty to uphold, after all. Yet more importantly, I didn't wanna be blamed for letting the water run cold by the next person looking to take a shower. We'd had plenty of those in the past and they were never really fun. But with Daryl? Well, he could make thangs interesting.

“Where'dya want it, Rick Grimes?”

“Anywhere you want.”


End file.
